My Brother's Keeper
by The Soapy Kid
Summary: Harry adjusts to life outside the spotlight as the Potters move back to England. What else can you do when your twin is famous for killing a dark lord? Not abused!Harry.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own a ruddy thing.

AN: I got tired of seeing an out of character Lily and James neglecting, or even abusing, a poor, sickly, Oliver-Twist-Pity-Me Harry while spoiling his sibling rotten. I really shouldn't be starting ANOTHER fic, but… eh. Plot bunnies.

My Brothers Keeper

Chapter One

It started with a family, and it ended with one too.

James and Lily Potter were the happily wed parent's ofa pair of bright eyed, babytwins. James was in the law enforcement, and Lily was a school teacher. They lived peacefully at 432, Godric's Hallow, a home filled with warmth and love. A happy family.

Not only were they a happy family, though. Stranger still, they were a happy _magic _family. James Potter was an accomplished wizard, working as an Auror, wizard policeman, and advancing his career through hard work and honesty. Lily Potter was a witch, and the professor of charms at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Twins, Harry and James Jr. didn't have a profession yet, but bother parent's held dreams for their children's lives. Dreams that would be radically altered.

In the late 20th century, a particularly ruthless dark wizard named Tom Marvolo Riddle or Voldemort began employing terrorist tactics against the British Ministry of Magic. People lived in constant fear. Times were dark. Voldemort led his band of Death Eaters for the cause of the 'purification of bloodlines,' proclaiming himself heir of Slytherin. James and Lily Potter were part of an organization fighting Voldemort, the Order of the Phoenix.

A prophecy was made concerning one of the Potter Twins having the ability to defeat the Dark Lord. James and Lily went into hiding, entrusting their location only to a close friend. They were betrayed.

On Halloween, 1981, Voldemort entered the Potter residence at 432, Godric's Hallow. The house was empty. James and Lily Potter, along with their twins, weren't home. The wards at the house were triggered by Voldemort's presence, and the Potters fled to faraway America to wait for a day they deemed safe to return to their homeland.

Seven Years Later

"And don't let them watch to much television or eat to much junk food. They'll be wired and keep you up half the night."

"We'll be fine Lily. God knows this isn't the first time I've watched children. You and James go out and have yourself a fun night." Mrs Hayde ushered Lily out the door before closing it. "Now, where did those brats get off to…"

"Poop head!"

"Dog face!"

"Pickle nose!"

Harry and James went rolling across the floor of their bedroom. Finally, Harry had James pinned under him.

"I'm winning." Harry grinned.

James growled "No you not." He struggled under Harry's weight.

"Yes I am. Look, you can't move. I'm winning." Harry argued.

James smirked. "Only until I do this!" James bucked his hips hard in an effort to upset Harry, but Harry clung valiantly to his perch on his twin.

"I'm still winning." Harry grinned. "Now you have to say it."

"No. It's not true." James got a stubborn look on. "Karate is loads better than Ninjitsu."

Harry bounced on James' stomach. "Then why am I winning?"

"Because your a poop head."

"Nah ah. It's because Ninjitsu is better. That's what the Ninja Turtles use."

"So? They aren't real. Your only winning because you've been taking lessons for a year. I've only had _half_ a year. It's not fair."

"Boys!" Mrs. Hayden's voice floated up the stairs. "Dinner's ready!"

The two looked at each other before bouncing to their feet and dashing down stairs.

The two Potter Twins looked a lot alike, but they weren't identical by any means. The both had their father's hair, and their mothers nose. Harry, had his mother's chin and eyes, while James Junior was closer to looking like his father; he had blue eyes and a broader chin.

A year ago, Harry and James' parents decided to let them both start a hobby. Harry chose Ninjitsu. James chose baseball. It wasn't until half a year later that James, impressed with Harry's hobby and thoroughly bored with his own, asked if he could switch. James started Karate soon after, changing the type of martial art so it wouldn't look like he was copying Harry. He couldn't have _that_.

"I won." Harry said as they sat down at the table.

"Did not. I was about to throw you off."

"Were not."

"Were to."

"Booger brain."

"Earwax brain."

"Butt hair."

Boys! Stop that!" Mrs Hayden admonished. "We're at the dinner table. Let's have a polite, quiet discussion."

Harry and James looked at her for a moment, completely perplexed by her behavior. Usually, when they started the 'Name Calling Game' their father would urge them on, and their mother would pretend not to hear.

James spoke up. "Lady, your weird."

Mrs Hayden gave a sharp look. "That's Mrs Hayden, or ma'am to you."

James straightened in his chair, giving a small salute. "Yes ma'am."

Harry snickered behind his hands. "She's still weird." He whispered. The two put up a poor attempt to try and hide their giggles and the whole meal long Mrs Hayden kept giving them glares.

Harry finished first and dove out of his chair. Mrs Hayden had a grip on his shirt before he had gone five feet.

"Have you washed your plate young man?" she asked.

"No." Harry avoided her eyes.

"No what?"

"No ma'am."

Harry finished washing his plate just as James came in the kitchen with his dish. He had wide eyes. "She's a nightmare."

Harry never got a chance to reply. The house shook as the front door was blown off it's hinges. A robed figure strode in. Mrs Hayden never even had the chance to scream before green light engulfed her.

The cloaked man moved towards them, every movement smooth, every step graceful; he seemed to be floating more than walking. The man carried himself like royalty. Through the gap in the hood, you could see a shock of black hair, and two soulless eyes gleaming. Voldemort. _Flight of Death_.

"Voldemort." Harry whispered. The two boys looked on in paralyzed fear as the cloaked figure swept gracefully toward them.

"Run!" Harry screamed.

Harry dashed upstairs in a blind panic, no clear plan in his mind except to flee that which pursued him. James, however, had, in his childhood imagination, dreamed over and over again what he would do in this situation. Squelching his fear with Gryfindor courage and not a small dose of boyish stupidity, he ran to his parent's room and grabbed his father's spare wand out of the dresser.

"Nobody messes with a Potter." He declared and dashed back through the house in search of dark lords.

In the meantime, Harry was cornered in the play room, staring into the cold eyes of Tom Marvalo Riddle. For a few moments, their eyes locked, hunter and prey. Harry moved swiftly, taking two steps forward, before jumping at Voldemort with a flying kick. Voldemort casually side stepped and backhanded Harry as he landed. The boy spun around and toppled to the ground. Poise and dignity intact, the Dark Lord lifted his wand with fatal intent.

"Bow to death, Harry." It was the only sound the Dark Lord had made since entering the house.

"I- I wont. I'm a Potter." Harry's voice shook in fear. His father always spoke the name with such pride, it pained Harry to sound so weak.

"Your a boy." Voldemort sneered. "Avada Kedavra!"

From his crouched position in the hallway, James heard Voldemort scream a curse. No time to lose. He had to save his brother. James darted in the room andjabbed his wand in a spastic movement, screaming a curse he'd heard his father use; a weak blast issued from the wand. "Destructo!"

At the same instant, Voldemort's curse rebounded off Harry and Voldemort was sandwiched between the two curses. The Dark Lord's body was disintegrated and his spirit fled the house in a gust of wind.

James stood shocked for a moment. He had only seen his curse strike, missing the rebounded curse. The younger of the Potter Twins collected himself and gave a slight nod.

"And _that_ is why nobody messes with a Potter."

BREAK

When Harry came to, the first thing he saw was James' face five inches from his.

"I killed him." His brother boasted.

"Wha?" Harry's only reality was the throbbing headache, pounding in his skull.

"Voldemort. The Dark Lord. You-Know-Who. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I killed him."

What was his brother talking about? Then Harry remembered the attack; he remembered being cornered in the playroom, Voldemort standing over him, screaming a curse.

"Nuh uh." Harry whispered in disbelief.

"Uh huh! I used dad's spare wand. Look!" James pointed and sure enough, there was Voldemort's robe laying in the dust.

"Then where's his body?" Harry asked.

"It turned into dust." James smiled.

Harry looked at his brother suspiciously. "Are you sure he's dead?"

James grinned. "Either that, or he's naked somewhere!" He burst out laughing. "Oh, wait till I tell mom!" James laughed, then stopped. "Harry! Your head!"

Harry touched a hand over his forehead and it came away with blood. What curse had Voldemort used on him? It wasn't coming back for some reason. Oh, well. He felt fine and told his brother so.

Harry shook his head in disbelief at all that had happened. Then he remembered something. "Mrs Hayden is dead, isn't she."

James' eyes lowered. "Yeah. She's- she's dead." He smiled bravely. "She wasn't really that bad. I mean, she was a little bossy, but…" He trailed off. "Harry, I'm scared."

"I am too. But we're Potters. Dad is _always_ telling us that means something." Harry wrapped an arm around James.

"Do you think so?" James asked miserably.

Harry looked thoughtful before he replied. "I think it means you'll always have another Potter looking out for you, protecting you, saving your life. Yes, I think that means something." He turned to look his brother in the eyes. "It does to me."

BREAK

"Harry! James!" Lily frantically called. James Sr. was kneeling next to the crumpled form of Mrs. Hayden. They'd seen the doorless doorway from the street and come running in. "Oh, God." Lily sobbed, her world shaking. "Please, don't let them be dead. Harry! James!"

At that moment the two boys came tumbling down the stairs and into their mothers arms.

She was sobbing uncontrollably now. Harry and James felt awkward but the hug felt nice, so they didn't complain. Mr. Potter just stood and rubbed his wife's back making soothing noises.

"Shhh." Harry hushed. "It's okay mom. James killed him. We're okay."

Lily looked up, bleary eyed from crying. "You what?" she asked.

James beamed with pride. "I killed Voldemort, mom. I used dad's wand."

"It's true mom. It was him." Harry backed him up. "He had me cornered in the play room, but James got behind him and used _destructo_ curse, and boom! All that's left is his robe."

James and Lily looked at each other in disbelief. The Prophecy. Lily turned back to her sons. "I'm just glad your safe." The family embraced once more.

Tomorrow their life would change. James Jr. would go down in the books as the boy who defeated Voldemort. His name would be known around the world. The odd scar on Harry's head would be dismissed as the result of a cutting hex. Things would be different from here on out, but they would face it together. They were Potters.

End of Chapter One.

AN: Wow. A functional, happy, supportive family. Imagine that. R&R please.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own not a thing.

My Brother's Keeper

Chapter Two

Almost Three Years Later…

"James Potter, step forward."

The Dojo was chalk full of parents and relatives who were here for the belting ceremony. James's own parents and his brother Harry were watching from the stands. It had been nearly three years since that night on Halloween, since James had been told of the prophecy, since their lives had changed from one of hiding, to a more relaxed and terror free life.

James darted forward to the front of the classroom and stood stiff as a rod in front of Instructor Chan.

"Bow." Chan ordered, and the James did so, stiffly, hands pinned to his sides. Chan returned it.

"James Potter has completed the necessary requirements and has met the standards we set to advance to brown belt." Chan informed the audience. "Lift your arms." He said to James.

James hoisted his arms and instructor Chan untied his previous belt, and put on his new one.

"Bow." The two exchanged another pair of bows and then James darted back into formation.

"Kate Newgood, step forward…"

BREAK

After the belting ceremony, Lily and James took Harry and Junior out for ice cream. This was when James and Lily broke the news to them.

"Were moving back to England. Your father and I feel it's safe enough now. There hasn't been Death Eater activity in years." Lily announced suddenly, interrupting the conversation about Karate that was presently going on.

Junior and Harry stopped eating and stared in silence for a few moments.

"When?" Harry finally asked, weakly.

"In two months, we want to be moved in by August twentieth to give you time to get ready for Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts…" Junior said slowly. "You mean the school you learned magic at?"

"Yes," James replied. "The Headmaster is a personal friend, and the school is the best in the world."

"But what about my friends?" Harry asked.

"You'll make new ones," Lily soothed. "You'll also get to meet your godfather."

Harry sighed in defeat and slouched in his chair. Junior however seemed torn between excitement and fear for his Karate lessons. "What about martial arts?"

Lily looked at James. "Well, we'll find a place for lessons during the summer, but you'll be spending a most of the time at Hogwarts. It's a boarding school, you know."

"Boarding School! Mom!" Harry moaned. "When will we come home? Who'll watch over us?"

"Their will be plenty of teachers to watch over you, and you'll have a head of house to go to for guidance."

"I don't want things to change. I like it here." Harry moaned into his hands. How could they do this! Life was _perfect_!

Lily reached forward and grabbed one of his hands in hers. "I know Harry. But you'll like Hogwarts. I promise."

Harry looked downcast the rest of the meal, while Junior seemed to be getting accustomed to the idea of a move.

BREAK

Harry loved the night. Not that he didn't like the day. Day and night were for two different things. Day was for living. Being alive and free. Playing football and baseball. Wrestling with James and their dad.

Night was for thinking. About the day he'd just had. About how Billy Hallwell was such a jerk. About how Susan MacBee had a funny sounding voice. About the night Voldemort attacked. About how James was the Prophesied One, while he was just Harry. Sometimes that bothered him a little. Sometimes it didn't.

Regardless of what he was thinking, this was where he did it from. The roof. Under the stars. Night was so deep, one couldn't help but think deep thoughts when staring up into it.

Harry turned as his father slid down the roof next to him.

"Harry, I need to talk to you."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, er… What's up dad?"

"You know your brother's the Prophesied One, and you know how famous he is in Britain."

"Yeah." Harry said slowly, not entirely sure where this was going.

"That means he's going to have a lot of people staring at him… whispering about him… pointing at him. Their going to notice every little thing he does, and their going to talk about it."

Harry gave his father a weird look. "Don't they have better things to do?"

James Sr. chuckled softly. "Maybe they don't." he sighed. "My point is, Harry, I want you to be there for him. Watch his back Tell him when he's wrong. Support him when he's right. Keep no secrets from him." He grimaced suddenly. "Ah… Deflate his head if he needs it. Stand by him, Harry."

"I will, dad." Harry promised, his face serious.

James looked at his son for a moment. Harry surprised him sometimes in moments like these with sudden bouts of maturity far beyond his age. The moment passed and James Richard Potter slid back through the window.

"Goodnight, Harry. Don't stay up too late." He called.

"Okay, dad."

James turned back around in the hallway to look at his son. The boy was still in the same place, staring into the night. Harry, for his part, was unaware of his father's eyes on his back. He was lost in thought.

Break Line

James twisted around with a spinning crescent kick, but Harry blocked it with an arm, and swept his brother's feet out from under him. James landed with a soft thud on the soft mat of their play room floor.

"Ninjitsu is better." Harry reminded his brother.

James rolled to his feet. "We'll see about that!" He let loose a flurry of punches, but none of them got through Harry's guard.

"We 'see about that' every time we fight." Harry snagged one of his brother's right cross punches and pulled him forward, then twisted his arm behind his back. "Have you ever noticed." He whispered into his brothers ear. "That I _always_ win?"

"Not always." James protested. "Who killed Voldemort?"

Harry shoved his brother forward onto his face and released his hold on him. "Yes, yes. I know. You know. The _whole_ _world_ knows. James Richard Potter II killed Lord Voldemort on October thirty-first, nineteen eighty-eight." Harry recited. "Hail! Hail the Prophesied One." Harry said, making little bowing motions.

"Damn straight." James shot back, coming at Harry with a flying kick. Harry side stepped and gave him a round house kick to the stomach as he flew by. James doubled over, the wind gone from his lungs. Harry left him there and walked out with a parting, "I win, James."

James flopped back on to his rear. "We'll see about that." He promised the empty room.

BREAK

"All right people. Break out the focus mitts and partner up." Instructor Lun ordered.

Ninjitsu class had been running fifteen minuets. Actually, it wasn't strictly Ninjitsu class; Lun Academy of Martial Arts taught Ninjitsu, Free Boxing (better known as Thai Boxing), and Japanese Fencing, but Harry enjoyed the Ninjitsu aspect the most.

Harry partnered up with Ryan, his usual partner, and began throwing punches and kicks as hard as he could at the padded mitts on his partners hands. Cross. Lead hook. Jab. Jab. Uppercut. Spinning back hand. Spinning crescent kick.

Ryan held the pads while the assault went on for a few minuets before noting, "Lot of power your throwing around today, Harry. Anything on your mind?"

Ryan was Instructor Lun's son and three years older than Harry. He'd been talking Ninjitsu a four years longer than Harry had, and knew his way around a fight like nobodies business. He'd taken Harry under wing when Harry had first started Ninjitsu as a shy six year old. Their friendship had done nothing but grow since then.

"We're moving." Harry spat, adding a jump to the next spinning crescent kick that made it sloppy as hell, but added that extra bit of power. Ryan staggered a bit at the impact.

"Shit, warn a guy next time before you do that." Ryan admonished lightly. "Where are you going?"

"England." Harry puffed, throwing out three more jabs.

Ryan whistled. "Long way away from here." He paused. "Ninjitsu?" he simply asked.

Harry understood the question. "Mom and dad will try to find something during the summer. During the school year? Boarding school."

Ryan winced, then stopped. "It's not… all boys, is it?"

Harry stopped mid kick. "I don't think so… No, mom went there."

"Good." Ryan said, then seeing Harry's eye roll added, "Ah, you don't care _now,_ but you will."

"Whatever." Harry sighed, going back to punching.

Jab. Jab. Cross. Lead snap kick. Lead round house. Another spinning crescent kick. Jab. Hook. Jab-Jab-Uppercut-Cross-Jab-Hook-Jab.

Ryan suddenly pinned Harry's next punch between his two focus mitts, yank him forward and seized him in a head lock.

"I'm gonna miss my little sparing partner." He cooed, ruffling Harry's hair.

"Ryan! Get off me!" Harry shouted, embarrassed at the attention the two were drawing.

"Your supposed to be learning Ninjitsu. Make me." Ryan laughed.

"You asked for it!" Harry broke the hold and tried to kick Ryan with a sidekick. Ryan blocked the move with on focus mitt and slapped Harry across the face with the other. Harry looked ready to really get into it before Instructor Lun came up behind them.

"We're doing drills, correct?"

"Er…" Harry said.

"A little less goofing around, please."

"Yes, sir." The two intoned, looking sheepish. They went back to drills.

Jab-Cross-Jab-Jab-Hook-Jab-Backhand-Uppercut-Lead snap kick-Jab-Cross-Spinning backhand.

"Warning." Harry blurted suddenly before leaping with another spinning crescent kick.

"Kiiiiiiiiiiiiyaaaaaa!"

Ryan staggered.

Break Line

AN: Yes! Second chapter up.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

AN: Sorry about the wait! Here's the third chapter!

Chapter Three

The wind rustled the leaves in the oak tree he was perched in. Harry gave a contented sigh as it tousled his hair lightly. August was half over. They'd be moving in a few days. Most of the packing was already done. Ryan and a few of his other friends from martial arts and school were coming over this afternoon. They were throwing a going away party. For him. Because he was moving; he was _actually_ moving. He was struggling to come to grips with that; trying to comprehend that this chapter of his life was ending. Life was moving on, and it was leaving his room, his friends, his home, and this sturdy oak tree behind. It was moving toward _biscuits_ and _tea _and crumpets and _blood sausage_. Despite the fact that he was _born_ in Britain, he _felt_ like an American. It was all he'd ever known. And holy shit, he wouldn't have to start calling soccer _football_ would he?

Harry glanced over to where his father was setting up three tents in the backyard. After the initial party, twenty or so of Harry and James' closer friends would be spending the night outside. Ghost stories, potato chips, and sodas would abound. His parents had really pulled out all the stops for this, and Harry appreciated it.

"Harry!" his mom's voice was barely audible from his distance from the source, but Harry instantly knew he'd been called. It was a sixth sense he'd developed naturally over time with help from his mother. His mother could shout from the other side of the world and he'd hear. Harry slipped from the branch he was perched on, dropped three feet and snagged another one and swung to the ground, almost landing on his back. If he had, he might have broken his spine and any number of ribs, or at least have the wind knocked out of him. Eleven year olds don't think of these things, though, as any mother would tell you. Harry managed to make his landing into something approaching graceful, and trotted inside to see what his mother wanted.

Lily Potter was standing on a chair in the dinning room, trying to tape a banner across the entryway. Harry watched her struggle for a few moments, then spoke up.

"Did you consider using a sticking charm?" he asked, amused. His mother sometimes reverted back to her muggle upbringing at odd times. It did help often with their current lifestyle… they practically lived as muggles now. Aside from a few spells cast here and their on rare occasions and a shelf in the far corner of the basement that housed some of the Potter's more valuable and personal items, the house was clear of charms, potion ingredients, spell books, flying brooms, and other magical objects. The Potters had kept a low profile, even in America's wizarding community. No sense in taking risks.

"Actually, I did, smart ass. I was afraid somebody would notice. We're going to have a lot of people over today; all of your and James' friends. Last thing we need is somebody discovering the Potter's don't need tape like the rest of the ordinary people."

"Mother, your being paranoid." Harry grinned.

"Hm." Lily answered, noncommittally. "Give me a hand with this."

Harry pulled up a chair, and took the tape from his mother. "You probably have something more productive to be doing mom. I'll take care of all your worries. I'll leave so much tape up, it would take a blind man to miss it. I could use black duct tape too if you prefer."

Lily swatted the back of his head. "Smart ass. You sure? I do have things to do…"

"Go on. I can handle taping up a banner." Harry smirked. "By the way, when this thing falls off and lands in the punch bowl, it's your fault, not mine."

Five minuets and half a roll of tape later, Harry stepped back to serve his work. Nodding in satisfaction, Harry clumped up the stairs to his room.

Break

Harry watched from the porch as Ryan got out of his families' Mercedes, gave his mother a parting hug and strode up the driveway.

"Almost packed yet?" Ryan asked as Harry fell in step with him.

"Mostly. Have a bit more junk in the basement. And we still have the sparing gear out for tonight." Harry grinned at his friend.

"So, how are you?" Ryan asked.

Harry considered the question for a moment before responding. "Resigned."

"How's your brother?"

"Ecstatic." Harry remarked dryly.

"How's your mother?"

Harry stopped walking and gave his friend a peculiar look. "She's… fine."

"How's your father?" Ryan asked, ignoring Harry's look.

"Is there a point to-" Harry began, but Ryan cut him off.

"And how's your reflex?" He grinned, taking a swing at Harry's face with an open hand.

Harry caught it, barely, and grinned at his friend's… uniqueness. "I'd say he's _pretty good _too."

"What are you two up to?" Harry and Ryan turned to see a boy of about thirteen jogging up.

"Hey Dillan. Ready for the matches tonight?" Ryan asked.

It was tradition among Harry and his friends to have rough housing tournaments at each others parties. With an anti-injury charm placed in their playroom, the Potters had no need to worry about wrathful overprotective mothers, and expensive lawsuits.

"Sure. How much fresh meat we got tonight." Dillan asked.

"Quiet a bit. Lot of James' friends coming tonight." Harry grinned. "I'm looking forward to seeing you and Ramal go at it."

Dillan's eyebrows rose. "Ramal? Who's Ramal."

"A friend of James. Five foot six inches. Fourteen years old. Black. One hundred and fifty-seven pounds. Still hasn't hit his growth spurt." Harry grinned. "You've got your work cut out for you."

Dillan rubbed his chin in thought. "Ramal, hmm? I'll look for him tonight."

Harry gave a snort. "He'll be hard to miss."

Ryan clapped Harry on the shoulder. "So, when's this party thing getting going?"

"In a couple hours. What do you want to do until then?"

"Let's shoot some hoops."

Over the next few hours, Harry played basketball with the teams constantly growing and reshaping as more people arrived, until Lily called them in for the party. They entered the house, a mass of sweaty bodies, laughing and slapping each other's backs and started in on the sodas. Harry found James in the crowd.

"Ready for tonight?" Harry nodded at James.

"Yeah." James gave his brother a superior nod. "Ready to feel the wrath of the chosen one?"

"No time for witty banter now. Dad's about to talk." Harry pointed over to where their father was standing on a chair.

"Your attention for a moment. Just a moment, then I'm done. I know why you're all here. I have two bright, friendly sons who have in some way touched your lives. I know and you know what special, and incredible kids they are. But that's not why you're here. You're here for Lily's cheesecake."

A loud cheer arose from the crowd, and Mr. Potter had to wave his hands to keep them quiet. "In all honesty, though. You're here because one of my two sons calls you friend. That makes you welcome in my home."

As Mr. Potter stepped down off the chair, conversation resumed as normal. Harry slipped away from his twin in order to mingle. After a few minuets of trying to thread his way through the crowd, Harry reached the base of the stairs and stood on the second step to get a view over the crowd. There was Terry Calwell from school, and Patrick, Terry's younger, ten year old brother. Panning his vision across the room, Harry scanned and checked people off his mental guest list until he finally caught sight of who he was searching for. Harry jumped from the steps and began to once more weave his way through the crowd towards Mike.

"Hey, Mike." Harry greeted, slinging an arm over his second best friend's shoulder.

Mike turned his piercing blue eyes on Harry and smiled. "Hello Harry." He said with a cordial nod.

Mike was a very different type of person then Harry, though both were rather reserved. Harry loved the mind challenges presented in a fighting scenario, though he had to admit the brutal, physically demanding part of the challenge had no small appeal to him as well. He loved to analyze his opponents weaknesses, strengths, and strategies and work out how to best combat them with his own. Harry also enjoyed thoughts born the of silence and calm that was the night sky and the stars. Deep, powerful thoughts that had no particular purpose or direction.

Mike directed his thoughts towards a goal. Mike was an artist and whether it be a poem, a drawing, a song, or a story that begged to be created, it was his calling from birth to give it existence. Mike's art was about order and serenity, not the tide of passions and emotions one often found in art; but that's not to say he didn't put his soul into his art. He just had an air of peace around him that he could portray in perfection in his creations. Mike was a childhood prodigy and had four different tutors training him. Regardless of that, his mother had wanted to give her son something of a normal life, so Mike remained in public school. Harry often found that the only reason he wasn't insanely jealous of his best friend was because of the one thing he had that Mike never could. Magic.

"Are you going to the matches tonight?" Mike asked, with a slight eye roll.

Harry grinned at his friends reluctance. "Yeah. You don't have to watch if you don't want to. I know it's not really your thing…"

"You must be joking. You'll need somebody with a level head when you break your stupid skull open. I fear the rest of the barbarians you tromp around with will lack the intelligence to dial 911 in the right number sequence." Mike scoffed.

Two pairs of hands snatched Mike by either arm. "Lets test that theory, shall we Dillan?" Ryan suggested in a conversational tone to the other boy griping Mikes arm. " I'll break his fingers, and you see if you can dial 911."

"Why do you get the fun job?." Dillan protested.

Harry felt his attention drift as conversation continued between the other three. A slap to the back of his head brought him back to reality. Harry turned to see Kate giving him her usual superior look.

"Ready too get cleaned tonight, Potter?" Kate asked.

Harry hadn't known Kate for all that long. But she was nice enough… In her own boys-are-inferior-to-girls, overly competitive, warrior princess sort of way.

"I'll tell you exactly why I'm not going to lose to you tonight, Kate." Harry responded coolly, giving her his own mock superior look.

"And why's that?"

"It's all very simple, really. It's because your a girl." Harry stated in bored tone.

Kate's face turned a dark red. "Boys!" she snarled in distaste as she stormed off.

"That girl is going to grow up to be a raging lesbian." Dillan observed.

Ryan shook his head. "You mean you couldn't tell? She has it bad for Harry." Ryan was rather perceptive when it came to girls. Once Dillan had asked him where this rare knowledge had sprung from, and Ryan had divulged that he'd been dropped on his head as a child, for that was the only way one could come to understand women.

Dillan had been beating his head against solid objects ever since.

Break

Harry stared his opponent in her eyes, and was pleased at the anger he saw. That girl comment had really gotten to her. Good. He'd figured Kate for an aggressive fighter. With a grudge to settle, Harry hoped she might do something foolish.

The rest of the party was gathered around the mat, waiting for someone to make the first move. As Harry had expected she would, Kate moved first, opening the fight with a jump kick. Harry easily evaded the first strike, but was momentarily surprised by the ferocity of the follow up punches. He retreated a few steps before his opportunity. One of Kate's punches was a little to slow in returning to it's guard position and Harry snagged it with his left hand and threw a punch under her extended arm, straight into her chin. Harry was about to follow up, when she drove her knee into his gut. Harry managed to twist slightly before it connected, avoiding a severe blow that would have probably left him winded. The right hook that nailed his cheek, however, was a solid hit. Harry ignored the pain.

"Hit like a girl." Harry teased.

Kate's face turned red as she threw another hook at his face. He'd expected it. With a smooth motion, he stepped outside her punch in a classic female triangle movement, slapping her punch lightly aside and delivering a backhand that had his entire body weight behind it. Kate staggered backward, giving Harry room to use his jumping, spinning crescent kick. It connected with the side of Kate's face, and she toppled to the ground.

Harry stepped forward and offered her his hand up, which she pointedly refused as she pushed herself to her feet. "I don't need your help."

Harry sighed. Kate was a proud person by nature, and Harry knew he'd damaged that pride. "You fought well, Kate."

"Don't patronize me. You got lucky. Next time You won't be." She snarled.

"Kate, you don't have to prove yourself to me."

Kate's eyes widened suddenly, and the look of anger passed. With a slight nod, she stepped back into the crowd.

Ramal and Dillan's fight was interesting. Ramal was the superior in weight and strength, but Dillanknew better how to use his own weight, and how to turn his opponents against him. It ended with Ramal in a painful looking arm bar.

Finally, the moment came. Harry stood poised as James circled him. "I'm going to win this one, brother."

"Of course." Harry yawned. Then he moved. The sudden attack caught James of guard for a moment, but he recovered swiftly. The twins soon moved into a dance of sorts, each attacking and counter attacking with amazing speed and grace. Harry focused on the fight. He knew his brothers style inside and out, as James likewise knew his. James was on the defensive for the moment, but he didn't plan to stay that way. He would win this. He COULD beat his brother at something. Harry, for once, on this day, would taste bitter defeat while James stood over him, the victor.

Harry noticed the determined and focused way James was fighting. He was surprised James had managed to do this well so far. Usually, a fight between him and James was very one sided. Harry had never lost to him. Still James seemed to be holding his own rather well. He was tiring, though, Harry noticed as he blocked a kick that could have had more power behind it. It was time to end this. The next blow, Harry rolled off and threw a sharp uppercut at his brothers kidneys.

It was blocked. Harry barely had time to be surprised at his brother's reflex before an elbow sent him staggering backwards. The follow up flying kick sent Harry stumbling backward and into the floor.

James stood over his brother as the crowd around clapping. He soaked up the moment, wishing he could hold it forever. Finally, his brother would feel the disappointment James had been through so many times.

"I win." James grinned down at Harry. He could die knowing he'd beaten Harry. The moment was perfect, everything, he'd dreamed it would be. He watched his brother, looking for signs of disappointment and defeat.

But then his brother picked himself up off the floor and clapped his brother over the shoulder, a grin on his face. "Well done bro. I underestimated you. It was a mistake I will never make again."

James' friends encircled him, clapping him on the back and congratulating him, but James could only stare as his brother faded into the crowd, trying to understand why the feeling of victory was suddenly gone.

Break

Harry was making his way through the crowd when Ryan caught up with him.

"Hey, follow me. I brought a going away present for you."

Harry glanced at his friend. "You didn't have to. Nobody else did."

"Shut up, Harry. I wanted to. Hang on, it's in my bag."

Harry followed his best friend into the living room. Ryan knelt in front of his bag, his back turned to Harry as he pulled something out. He stood, his back still facing Harry, before turning slowly to face him. In his hands he held a katana, still in it's sheath. He handed it to Harry reverently.

"This was custom made just for you. It was very expensive, and I put a lot of thought into it, so don't insult me by trying to refuse it."

Harry nodded, and took it, staring at it. The hilt was beautifully designed, and Harry took a moment to study it.

Ryan sighed impatiently. "You gonna look at the blade, or what?"

Harry grinned sheepishly and hastily removed the sheath. It was beautiful. The single edge was keen, and the blade had a blood groove running down it's length. The balance was perfect, and Harry gave it a few experimental strokes.

"Now." Ryan said, bringing Harry's attention off his blade and onto his friend. "This gift does come with a single condition. And I want your promise on this, okay?"

At Harry's nod, Ryan continued. "Every time you draw this blade, whether your about to do your little sword dance thing, or if your showing it off to a cute girl, I want you to say my name. Ryan. I don't care if it feels dumb. Every time. No exceptions. I want you to remember me."

"I promise. I wont forget you." Harry promised.

"You'd better not. And WRITE. Keep in touch. Let me know how bad boarding school is. And most of all, keep practicing. When we meet next, I expect you to be a challenge for me to thrash."

"Yeah." Harry grinned sadly at his best friend.

"Now, I hear there's a party going on around here some where. Wanna try to find it?"

"Sure." Harry replied, and the two rejoined the crowd. Harry would have a good time tonight; he would make a memory, and he would never forget it.

AN: Originally, I was going to jump straight too Britain in this chapter, but many people like certain characters in America, and I decided to give them a bit more spot light. I already have most of the next chapter done, so you wont have to wait months for it or anything like you did this one. I'll probably post it tommorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

AN: James Potter Sr. will hence forth be known as **Mr. Potter.** James Junior will simply be James. Yes, I know I said this would come out sooner, but I gave into my perfectionist side and edited around some. By the way, I may need a beta to run my ideas by since my brother is at college. I would prefer a more experienced author than me. Someone nit picky that I can learn from. However, they would have to endure my irregular updates. I have a LOT of responsibilities right now, and updates may not be that frequent.

My Brother's Keeper.

Chapter Three

"Here we are." James Potter said, dropping his bag of luggage on the marble floor of their new living room. "Our new home!" he declared, wiping dust from the floo network off his robes.

Harry glanced around and got his first glance at their new house, determined not to be impressed. It was difficult. The room was beautifully painted a light green and Harry took an immediate unintentional liking to the room.

Mr. Potter grimaced. "That'll have to go. No Slytherin colors in _this_ house."

James however had seen the look of disappointment on his brothers face. Knowing that Harry wouldn't protest, James decided to for him.

"I kind of like it, Dad. It matches Mom's eyes." James put forward, having no idea of whether it was true or not.

Mr. Potter, dutiful husband and father, saw his wife's face take on look of curiosity at how he would respond, and knew instantly he was in danger of sleeping on the couch if he pressed further for a color change.

"And what beautiful eyes they are," he conceded, and pecked Lily on the cheek. "We'll keep it the way it is."

"Honey, you don't have to _do_ _that for me._" Lily said, emphasizing certain parts of the sentence.

Harry gave James a grateful look, and the Potters moved on to the other rooms. The house had three stories, an attic and a basement, eight bedrooms, three bathrooms, two dinning rooms, one living room, a spare room, and a kitchen. Harry chose the loft bedroom in the attic for his room, and James chose a bedroom on the bottom floor. Harry's parents had the master bedroom on the second floor. Harry, James, and Mr. Potter convinced Lily that the spare room should become a workout and sparring room instead of a library. After all, they could turn a bedroom into a library, but not into a workout room as it would have been too small for Harry and James to throw each other around in.

Harry made peace with the fact that he liked the house by reminding himself that they wouldn't be spending most of their time here. The move was still a bad idea. The fact that their new house was nice didn't change a thing.

Break Line

The twins met Sirius for the first time on Saturday. He came over with an old bearded man that Harry found out was Dumbledore, the Headmaster. They had a quiet evening meal, discussing the different subjects in school, and Sirius told some very funny stories about when he and father were at school.

"So then we dragged Prongs out into the front grounds of Hogwarts, tied his hands behind his back and tied another rope around his ankle, staked the other end of it in the ground, striped off all his clothes, levitated him twenty feet into the air, and left him out all night."

James and Harry almost fell off their chairs from laughing at the shade of red their father's face had turned. Dumbledore was chuckling to.

"Yes, I remember that. I had _quiet _an interesting time explaining that to the Board of Governors when they showed up early the next morning for the monthly meeting. I believe I told them you were a rare magical creature that showed them what they most wanted to see. Then I asked them what form it had taken for them. I got many answers, but none involved a naked young man tied to a stake."

Even Mr. Potter was laughing now. The conversation went on into the night, stories of Hogwarts flowing back and forth, tales of passage ways and corridors, pranks and detentions, Quiddich and dueling clubs, until Harry felt an excitement building in his chest. He _wanted_ to go, he realized with a sudden shock. Harry realized that was the point of this dinner discussion. He was being manipulated. It was too late to turn back now though; too late to stop his ears to all the exciting tales. Harry began, against his will, to look forward to the school year. He should have seen this coming.

Break Line

It was Monday before the reporters learned of their move back to Britain; a muggle born witch saw them walking through London. Harry and the rest of his family were on their way back from the grocery store, arms loaded down with bags when they were ambushed. Suddenly, there was a crowd of people all around them, snapping cameras, yelling questions, pushing, shoving, and circling.

"James Potter, what does it feel like to have killed the Dark Lord at age seven."

"Well, uh." James stammered, embarrassed. He felt a small swell of pride at the crowds admiration, but reminded himself that he had been lucky. Voldemort had underestimated him. And why shouldn't he have? Some idiot boy with his father's wand defeating the greatest dark lord in a century? It could never have been anything but luck, there was no doubt of that in James' mind. Still, despite the role of luck and sheer stupidity in Voldemort's downfall, James felt it as something of an accomplishment. He wanted to be remembered for more than that though. One day, he would be, too.

Harry was surprised at the resentment that swelled in his chest towards his brother. He realized what this sickly feeling bubbling in his throat was. He was jealous. Jealous of the attention his brother was receiving for killing an evil man and saving Harry's life.

"Don't answer." Mr. Potter ordered.

Harry tried to squash this emotion, but it was so sudden, so _violent_. He fought it with reason; why should he be jealous of his brother for saving his life? But the creature did not care for logic or truth. It wanted one thing. It wanted what James had.

"Is it true that you've been hiding in America all these years?"

"James Potter, there are some rumors going around that you're Merlin reborn. What do you say to that?"

"James Potter, is it true you were prophesied to kill You-Know-Who?"

"Yes, actually, that is true." Mr. Potter cut in for his son. "Now if you'd please…"

"Harry Potter." Harry turned to see a reporter looking right at him. "Winston Gram from the Daily Prophet. Do you ever feel envious of your brother? Does his fame create a barrier between him and you?"

Harry had heard his father say not to respond, but he needed to answer this one; the world needed to know the where he stood on this and so, he realized, did he.

"He's my brother." Harry said firmly. "There can be no barrier between us. We are blood. I'd die for him."

Silence. Harry saw James out of the corner of his vision, eyes wide open in shock.

"That's rather a strongvow for an eleven year old." Winston pointed out dubiously, breaking the silence.

"My brother kills dark lords. I can say a few words that are in my heart." Harry replied, shrugging.

"That will be all for today." Mr. Potter said, ushering his children through the crowd and into their house.

Their mom and dad rushed forward, taking the groceries to the kitchen, leaving Harry and James in the hall.

"Did you mean it?" James asked tentatively.

Harry smacked him on the back of the head. "Not a word of it, moron." He replied, trying to make light of a situation too deep to feel comfortable.

"Yeah, I guess you'd actually have to _have_ a life in order to give it up for some one." James shot back.

"Ouch, that hurts." Harry droned, sarcasm saturating the air in the room. He turned to leave.

"Harry." James stopped him. "Did you mean it?"

Harry turned and saw the look of need in his brothers eyes. He _had_ to know. Harry suddenly saw how important this was to James.

"From the heart." Harry held James' eyes for a moment, then left.

In the empty hall, James bowed his head and wondered if he could say the same. Would he die for Harry? Harry had a strength about him, an air of confidence James could only wish for. Was he that strong? He didn't know. But he would try to be.

Break Line

Since the news of the Potter's arrival had already been uncovered, the family of four visited Diagon Alley the next day. Harry watched his brother shift uncomfortably under the gaze of the customers of The Leaky Cauldron. He shifted closer to James in an attempt to block out some of the stares. His parents followed suit. Harry was very relieved to get out of there, and he imagined James felt even more so.

Florish and Blott's was the first stop. Harry loved it at first glance. It wasn't that he liked reading _that_ much, though he did enjoy it. It was the dusty shelves, sliding ladders, creaking floor boards, aged oak walls, and lamp lit corners. It was amazing. Harry wondered how many things there were in the world that he couldn't find a book on in this place.

Harry didn't even bother coming in with the rest of his family into the pet shop. He didn't care for pets. They had the family owl. It carried the mail. It didn't poop too much. That was really all Harry was interested in.

After his brother came out with an owl, they continued onto the potions shop. It smelled funny, but Harry found some pretty gross things in there, so it evened out.

The Broom Closet was an interesting shop, and the Twins were excited to leave it with two brand new Nimbus 2000s.

Olivander's, though, was by far the most eventful visit. After finding James' wand (Oak with Griffin Hair, good for offensive magics) Olivander hit a wall with Harry. Nothing would work.

Finally, Olivander paused suddenly. "I wonder." He said before darting to the back of the shop and coming out with a wand

"Try this one."

Harry gave it a wave and sparks issued from the top.

"Curious. Very curious… and not a little _odd._"

"What's curious?" Harry asked.

Olivander studied Harry for a moment, before turning away.

"Nothing, young Harry. Nothing of any true importance at all." Olivander said as he walked into his office. "If that is all you need, just leave the money for the wands on the counter. I'm afraid I have some social calls to make."

The Potters all exchanged a look, before James just shrugged.

"Yeah. Whatever. Nothing odd at all." James said in a thoroughly convinced tone.

Break Line

Albus gave a start as his fire place roared to life, but masked his surprised reaction. Calmly, he greeted his old friend's head in his fire place.

"Hello, Olivander. It has been too long. I'm afraid I don't often have much time these days to visit old friends, but it is good to see you."

Olivander's face was nearly unreadable, but Albus thought he detected a hint of worry in the wand crafter's eyes.

"He's alive, Albus. Voldemort's alive."

Albus recoiled. No. No, he'd died. He had to have. That nightmare was over. James had completed the prophesy… He couldn't still be alive…

"How… Where? Where did you see him." Albus whispered.

"I didn't see him, exactly. I think he's possessing the Potter boy." Olivander's eyes glanced back over his shoulder.

"James?" Ablus' voice caught. Had they been so fooled?

"No. The other one. Harry. I could feel the touch of Voldemort saturating the air when he walked in. Voldemort must have lost his body that night and isnow living off the boy. That's all that makes sense."

"Are you sure about this? It could be something else entirely…" Albus said, dubiously. James and Lily; they would have known if Voldemort was possessing the boy. Besides, if Voldemort was in control of the boy, he probably would have killed the Potters by now. He certainly hadn't sensed anything when he visited the Potters, but then, Voldemort was accomplished in the arts of the mind, and Albus hadn't exactly been looking for dark lords…

"Albus, he has Fawkes' other feather for his core."

Dumbledore felt his blood freeze. Could it yet be possible? It was unthinkable, but it was also becoming a distinct possibility.

"Albus?" Olivander asked, awaiting instructions.

"Don't do anything. We can't be sure. I'll have him watched. If Voldemort is indeed possessing Harry's body, that long of an exposure... The young Potterwould already bedestroyed, and we will do what ever it takes to avenge his death. But we must not jump to hasty conclusions." Albus paused. "It would also be prudent to have the stone hidden at another location, for obvious reasons…" he trailed off thoughtfully.

"Be it on your head, Albus. Just remember the children you protect when you let young Potter into your school."

"I do. Everyday, I do."

To Be Continued.

**Uchiha Jin:** Thank you for the compliment, but if that is truly the case, you might want to look into "Fugitive Prince" by March Madness or "Promises Unbroken" by Robyn. Might also look into Neutral. There are some truly amazing AU fics out there.

**Ddwelling:** Glad you think so. I was afraid it was kind dumb, but went with it anyway.

**E:** Plan to.

**Februarie: **Do you have a twin or is it the sibling rivalry you relate to. If it's the later, I know the feeling, having 4 siblings of my own.

**Hermione1208:** Moo.

**Living-the-dream:** Good idea, but no. The relationship between Harry and James isn't just one of rivalry. You see it clearer in this chapter. James is very competitive, true, but he also admires Harry a lot. He's competitive because Harry's his role model and what he compares himself to.

**Black's Phoenix: Me too.**

**CrimsonReality: **Thank you.

**AthenaKitty:** (1)I can't tell you THAT. (2) Of course he is, they're brothers! (3) about what?

**Lady Sakura Cosmos:** Thank you.

AN: Review.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 4

_In the final seven years of Voldemort's Dark Times, his influence and power grew to alarming proportions. Britain was almost completely cowed, with Hogwarts acting as the sole safe haven on the isles. He also controlled most of Europe, after he captured Durmstang in a hard fought victory against it's occupants. With France hemmed about on all sides, and Dumbledore pinned up in Hogwarts, Tom Riddle turned his eyes toward the Orient. In a series of sneak attacks, Voldemort conquered the nine schools of magic in China, and the four in Japan._

_It seemed nothing could truly stand in Voldemort's way. Then the incredible happened. An army attacked and caught Durmstang completely off guard. A coalition of the survivors of China's and Japan's schools, led by a man named Inushiro Kumasaka, the Red Dragon of Kyoto, sacked Durmstang then grouped with Dumbledore at Hogwarts. Inushiro Kumasaka, one of the most powerful wizards of our time, led thirty-two strikes and counter strikes in the following years, thirteen in which he dueled Voldemort himself. A man named Remus Lupin also rallied a band of werewolves to the cause. It is due largely to the heroic example of Remus Lupin and his Swift Company that the Modern Wizarding World no longer holds such prejudice against werewolves._

_For three years, Inushiro's Drakes and Voldemort's Death Eaters clashed, neither gaining an edge over the other. The magic world was tearing itself apart at the seams. Then a seven year old boy picked up his father's wand and slew the most feared wizard in five hundred years. In the after math, Hogwarts was expanded to accommodate the survivors of Durmstang, the nine schools of China, and the four schools in Japan. Two large memorials were also built on Hogwarts ground. One to the fallen; the Phoenix Fountain with it's head bowed, water leaking from it's eyes. One to the victorious; The Dragon's Torch, a magnificent carving of a dragon with it's head pointing skyward, a flame eternally billowing from it's maw. A smaller memorial, in the corner of the grounds, was erected in memory of Remus Lupin and his Swift Company, all of whom were wiped out in a courageous defense of Hogsmede. The Lupin Memorial depicts a pack of wolves nestled together, forever in sleep._

It looked like a Thomas the Tank Engine reject. To say that the Hogwarts Express was somewhat dated was to say that Dumbledore was a little old. Coal powered, smoke stacks and the whole nine yards. Frankly, Harry was surprised that Wizards would 'stoop' to using any form of muggle technology, no matter how old. In his few short visits to the wizarding world, Harry had been shocked at the prejudice of wizards against muggles.

Harry and James said their goodbye, nodding at their dad's "Take care." their mom's "Stay out of trouble." and laughing at Sirius' "Get into trouble." Luggage in tow, the Potter twins boarded the train. It was crowded in the isle as Harry waded forward in search of a compartment.

"Watch yourself, you little mudblood." Harry froze. The voice had come from a compartment to his left. Moving in for a better look, Harry saw that there were four boys inside. Two large, obese kids towered over a young boy with a shaved head. The fourth boy, a blond kid with an aristocratic, obnoxious voice, seemed to be doing the talking for the larger boys.

"You'll have to leave, mudblood. This compartment is ours." The blond boy spoke again. Harry felt James pull up along side him. Harry's brother tensed at the word 'mudblood', but Harry put a restricting arm on his shoulder and shook his head.

For his part, the bald kid nodded and picked up his stuff and began to leave the compartment. The blond kid looked surprised at his lack of resistance, then moved to block him.

"Hey, where are you going so fast? Running away, are you? You mudbloods are all the same. Let's see what you have in the bag."

The boy spoke for the first time. "Nothing that would interest you, friend. Just a few lowly muggle possessions that have little value to anyone but me." the boy stated, meekly.

Before the blond kid could answer, someone darted past Harry and into the compartment. The new arrival stepped between the bullies and their victim. He was oriental, that much was obvious. He looked about Harry's age. His face was angled, and his hair was done up in a top not. It was also obvious that he was a martial artist. Everything from his lithe form to the way he stood screamed of speed and reflex.

"Three to one? Hardly seems fair. Why don't you cowards try that on me?"

One of the big kids took his invite. With a lumbering step, fatty threw a clumsy punch that the oriental ducked. A knee to the groin brought him down. Both his friends soon followed him to the floor, one from a karate chop to the throat, the other from a kick to the face. The three goons stumbled to their feet and brushed past Harry and James on their way out.

"Don't let those guys push you around. Look, if you ever have trouble with them again, just let me know. I'm Motokazu Kumasaka, by the way." The oriental seemed proud of the name.

The bald kid stared at him for a moment. "There was no need to resort to violence." He spoke, softly.

Motokazu's eyes widened. "Your welcome." He sounded offended.

"You didn't fight them for me. You fought them because you wanted to show off. I was simply your audience and your excuse." The boy stated mildly.

From Motokazu's expression, Harry could tell the boy had struck a nerve. The boy picked his bag up and began to leave the room again.

"Hey, where are you going?" Motokazu asked.

"To find another compartment. This one seems to disagree with me." Then he was gone, leaving a fuming Motokazu behind.

Motokazu looked up as Harry and James entered. "Saw that?" He looked sheepish.

Harry nodded. They left it at that.

"I'm Motokazu as you may have heard." The boy looked a little less embarrassed once it became clear Harry and James wouldn't bring up what just happened again.

"I'm James Potter. This is my brother Harry." James introduced them.

Motokazu's eyes widened. "I have heard that name before. You honor me with your presence, Potter-San." He said, suddenly formal.

James turned red. "Well, uh…" he stammered.

Harry decided to save him. "In the name of Merlin don't treat him like that. His head will swell up so big we'll never get him out of this compartment."

"His… head will swell?" Motokazu asked, confused by the phrase.

"It means he'll get too proud." Harry explained.

"I see." Motokazu answered, but Harry wondered if he did.

The conversation flowed easier from that point. Harry and James talked of their life in America to a curious and attentive Motokazu. Motokazu, in turn, told them of growing up in Hogsmede. His father was a professor at Hogwarts. He held a class called Attack Magic. Motokazu had only been to Hogwarts a few times, but he described it as the "coolest place in the world." Ghosts, moving staircases, wind towers, and a forest full of amazing things.

Motokazu was still shooting odd glances at James, but that was fine. The first few days after James had killed Voldemort, Harry had looked at him strangely as well. He couldn't fathom his brother having killed a man, much less a dark lord feared around the world. Eventually, James had complained, "Harry is looking at me funny again, mom!" After that, his mother had taken him into another room and explained that even though James was special in many ways, mostly he was a normal person and that Harry should treat him like he always had. Harry had shot rubber bands at James at random times for the rest of the day. James for his part yelled his indignation every time Harry caught him off guard, but was inwardly glad his brother was back to normal.

The compartment grew more crowded as they were joined by a brunette girl in jeans and a tank top. Her name was Sara, and she lacked Motokazu's subtlety, openly gawking at Harry's brother. James was shooting her confused looks in response to her enthralled expression.

Another added to their party, a fourth year named Richard. He was affable and had a friendly personality, and, Harry soon discovered, he was Sara's older brother. Richard was giving Harry looks of mild alarm at his sister's captivated expression, to which Harry could only shrug at helplessly. James, unsure of how to respond to Sara's pining, settled for acting like he didn't notice. Motokazu was doing his best not to laugh, and Sara continued to gape, completely unaware.

Finally, Richard broke the bizarre moment. "Sara… What the hell are you doing?"

That was too much for Motokazu, who let out an odd noise, controlled himself a moment longer, then burst into gales of laughter. Sara, looking like a rabbit having a heart attack, gave a strangled noise of embarrassment and bolted from the compartment.

"That was delicately done." Harry observed, dryly.

"She's my sister. I'm allowed to embarrass the shit out of her." Richard said, offhand. "We're almost to Hogsmede. You might want to change into your robes now."

Harry nodded and pulled out his duffel bag.

_Breaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline_

"First years! First years! I would like all the first years over here, please!" Harry turned to see a man in expensive looking robes. A group of kids were gathering around him.

"Hello. My name is professor Quirell. I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Right now, however, I suppose I'm acting as something of a guide. So, if you would all just follow me, the boats are this way."

He led them to a lake and began pairing them off, four to a boat. Harry in a stroke of poor luck found himself in a boat with the three bullies they'd encountered on the train.

"Draco Malfoy." The blond boy said simply, thrusting out his hand.

Harry hesitantly took it. He'd heard about the Malfoys. They were text book prejudice, traditional purebloods. Oddly, though, they'd fought viciously against Voldemort in the last war, distinguishing themselves as heroes. They'd sworn that no Malfoy would ever bend the knee to a halfblood, no mater his mother's lineage. Despite their alliance in the war, the Malfoys remained a family stooped in the dark arts, so Harry was very hesitant in taking the boys hand. Also, the scene he'd witnessed earlier on the train was less than endearing. Never the less, the boy hadn't done anything to him personally, so Harry tried to keep an open mind. Maybe the boy wasn't all bad.

"Harry Potter." Harry answered. The boy's eyes widened.

"Potter? As in James Potter? The little boy who killed Voldemort?"

"My twin. He's here as well. Not sure where." Harry glanced around until he spotted James in a boat a little bit ahead of his.

Hogwarts emerged suddenly from the fog; a colossal mass of turrets, towers, and ramparts. The stone work was amazing. It was easy to see that some of the towers and structures had been around longer than other parts. A brighter stone was used on the expansions of the castle; Draken and Phoenix Tower, The Wolf Gate, and the Far Northern Wing were all constructed in the last five years. Two dorm buildings had also been built on the grounds, along with a stable and holding pens. The final addition to the expansion was an onyx wall around the entire grounds. Even the lake was guarded against. During the war, Hogwarts had been besieged innumerable times. When the schools from the Orient joined Hogwarts, they used their combined numbers to build the wall. Through the four remaining years of the war, it was never breached.

They landed, and Quirell led them through a small gate in the wall, across the grounds, and to the front steps. There, they were met by two members of staff; an elderly, Scottish woman, and a middle aged Asian who stood a half-step behind her.

"Good evening. I'm am professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration teacher. This is my colleague, Professor Kumasaka." A wave of gasps and she rolled her eyes. "I see you've heard of him. Now, in a few moments, you will be sorted into houses. There are four. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. So, if you would follow me…"

The first years were ushered in to a large hall that was aptly named _The Great Hall_. The ceiling over head was the first thing to draw Harry's attention. It was charmed to look like the sky and, save for any form of precipitation, imitated the current weather outside. The ceiling was not the only impressive aspect of the hall. Four, ornate and well carved tables ran the length of the hall, side by side. At the head of the hall, a final, shorter table was designated for the staff. Located just in front of the staff table, sat a stool with a hat on it. Harry was taken aback when it suddenly, and incredibly, burst into song.

_Welcome all to Hogwarts_

_Listen now to me_

_We have a system of sorts_

_I control you destiny_

_I've been around a time, see _

_And I've learned just how to tell_

_Where you will find family_

_And where you will excel_

_Gryffindor is for the strong_

_The courageous and the brave_

_A Gryffindor will right a wrong_

_And tolerate no knave_

_Hufflepuff breeds loyalty_

_A hard working, honest lot_

_It's good to have one by ye_

_When ever you're in a tight spot_

_Ravenclaw loves knowledge_

_And clear headed thinking skill_

_Learning gives you an edge_

_If you but have the will_

_Slytherin's value cunning_

_Ambition will take them far_

_They strive ever to be something_

_More than what they are_

The crowd burst into applause, and the sorting began. Sara Carter ended up in Ravenclaw like her brother before her. Motokazu became

a Gryffindor. The bald headed kid that Draco had been picking on earlier, Lee Chung, joined Hufflepuff. Draco Malfoy joined Slytherin.

"Potter, Harry!" Harry made his way to the stool amid a slight murmur of whispers. With a sigh, he sat down on the chair. It felt nice to be sitting after so long. Seventy students or so had already been sorted, and another forty still waited in line. Harry slipped the hat over his head.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat said, almost immediately. Harry made his way to his new table as a roar of approval swept his new house. The raven hared boy sat down next to Lee Chung among an assault of back slaps and hand shakes. He looked up at the stool in time to see his brother sorted into Gryffindor as the Gryffindors roared, stomped their feet, and cheered. Harry felt a stab of disappointment. He'd been hoping to be in the same house…

The sorting went on, but Harry paid it little mind. He was having an interesting conversation with a boy named Justin about the dueling room in the Far North Wing when he felt an odd pressure in his head. Thinking it was a headache coming on, Harry cleared his mind and began meditating… a concept he'd picked up from Ryan. The pressure ended abruptly.

The sound of glass breaking interrupted the ceremony, and Harry turned his head to see an embarrassed Albus Dumbledore holding up a shattered glass goblet apologetically. Harry grinned. He liked Dumbledore. His sense of humor was odd, and his mannerisms were even odder, but Harry could see wisdom behind his eccentric behavior.

"Ronald Weasley."

A hush fell over the crowd as a young boy with shoulder length red hair made his way to the front of the hall. His every step seemed to be a statement of defiance, and his posture was rigid. As he turned and sat on the stool, Harry caught a glimpse of his cold brown eyes. The hat sunk over his face, then belted out, "Gryffindor!"

The hall remained silent as Ronald Weasley rose to his feet and trudged toward Gryffindor's table. Another red head, presumably his brother, met him halfway and led him by the arm to his seat. Harry watched as Gryffindor seemed to shift around him, moving in closer like a protective wall.

"That's Ron Weasley." Justin informed him. "He lost his parents, three older brothers, and a younger sister in the war."

A pang of sympathy struck Harry's heart as he glanced back over towards Gryffindor table, where the two red headed boys sat side by side.

_Breaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreaklinebreakline_

There were twenty-three first year Hufflepuffs; Harry counted them as they were led across the grounds to their dorm, the Hufflepuff Sanctum. It was a round, two story building. The bottom floor held The Commons. It included a small library, a rec room, and a small kitchen. The upstairs housed the living space and the restroom facilities.

"Potter, Sans, Michelles, Chung, Willis, Price. You're in room five." The prefect announced. Harry trudged up the stairs and sank into his bed, vowing to get to know his room mates in the morning.

AN: Sort of rushed at the end. I don't know about this chapter. Felt kinda forced. Conversation was sorta weak… Oh well. Posting it anyway. Whenever I try to edit something, I just end up staring at my computer screen for hours on end, wondering what I should cut out. Thank you all for the reviews I've been getting. Sorry that I don't have time to answer them this chapter.


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